Safe and Sound
by Sugar-Crazed-Moose
Summary: Linnae Zuvich always thought of herself as an ordinary girl. One day, she was killed by a man she didn't even know, and she awakes in the Harry Potter world. The only thing she wants is to be safe and sound, though she is far from it. Harry/OC/Ron
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys. :) Sugar-Crazed-Moose here. This is my first fan-fiction, so... Yeah! I hope you like this.**

**Disclaimer-I don't own Harry Potter and stuff. J.K. Rowling does, bless her soul. She's a writing genius! Safe and Sound, the title, is based off of Taylor Swift****'s song, Safe and Sound. I don't own that song, it belongs to Taylor and her recording company. HOWEVER, I do own my two OCs and the homeless man. Yes, one of my OCs was named after Taylor Swift, so... :) Yeah!**

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><p><strong><strong>  
>He was after us. That much I had pieced together. The man was after Taylor and I, yet there wasn't anything we could do but run.<p>

Taylor and I used to joke about situations like this. 'You're my best friend, but if we're being chased by a madman, I'm tripping you!'

Only now, it wasn't funny at all. It had started normally enough, two fourteen year-olds (technically I was thirteen, but we were celebrating my birthday the next day) going out for coffee, laughing about crushes and sharing test grades and such. I had ordered a latte, extra creamy, with no whipped cream. Taylor had ordered a hot chocolate (she could be childish) with extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup. After taking out drinks to a nice secluded table in the corner, we set our drinks down and continued to chat about how my teacher was being unfair for taking off half a point because I had doodled on the test sheet.

Then the man came. He took the seat on the table over. He seemed normal, although he had scraggly hair and a tattered jacket. I didn't give it a second thought though, this was San Francisco, he was obviously homeless or something. The foreclosure had hit everyone hard, and he was undoubtedly another victim. Then I noticed his eyes. He had crazy eyes, which was another tribute to most homeless people, but there was something about them... He looked ready to kill someone, and he had his hand buried deep in his jacket pocket. I inched away, closer against the wall.

"Is he bothering you?" whispered Taylor, a little too loud for my liking, her blouse's zipper dangling in the frothy top of her hot chocolate. "I can talk to management, get him out of here. He probably doesn't have money, and its customers only."

The man stiffened, and turned his crazy eyes to Taylor. Taylor flinched back.

"No, no, Taylor." I said hastily. "I think we're fine. All good. There's no problem here!"

Boy, was I wrong. That's when everything took a turn for the worst. I saw his hand move, a flash of rusty silver, and I felt a slight pinprick in my side, yet I couldn't do anything. I knew I couldn't do anything with a knife pressed into my ribs.

"Listen here." The man said in a raspy voice, as if he hadn't talked for months. "I have a knife pressed into your side, pretty girl. Struggle and you'll have a knife in your stomach, and a friend who I'll come back for. If you don't want to end up dead, I suggest you cone with me."

The man got to his feet, and I hastily followed after his knife scraped my ribs through my blue blouse. It was summer, and one of the rare days that the sun had burned away all the fog in San Francisco, leaving both residents and tourists scrambling for swim suits and surf boards.

Taylor got to her feet as well, but I noticed she grabbed her hot chocolate. Who else but Taylor would want to finish her hot chocolate when a crazy homeless man had a knife pressed up against her friend's chest?

"I'm going to walk outside. Count to thirty, and then follow me. If anyone asks you if you're okay, ignore them. Don't. Say. Anything." he growled, and then whisked out the door.

Taylor and I looked at each other nervously. I felt my cut that the man had left on my side. Blood seeped through my shirt, and my fingers felt wet. I squeaked. My heart felt like it was in my throat, yet I felt it pounding in my chest, and pounding in my ears as well.

Taylor, however childish she was, was always the brave one. She led the way, expertly weaving through the crowded tables, and out the door that gave a cheerful ringing sound.

No one gave us a second glance. No one thought anything was wrong. No one thought we were going to die.

The man was waiting for us. He rasped, "If you even try to run, I have very good aiming skills." he twirled the knife in his hand, and then strolled down the street as if nothing had happened. Taylor and I exchanged confused glances, but followed him none the less.

We followed him for at least fifteen minutes, taking a left on Embarcadero, and a right onto First Street, ect. Suddenly, the homeless man took a right, into a shadowed alley. I took a nervous swallow, and then whispered. "Taylor, we're going to run."

"No." she snapped, but kept her voice low. "He'll kill us! He's crazy!"

"One... Two... Three!" I whisper-yelled, and then took off running, back down the street, Taylor right behind me. I heard the man give an angry yell, and then heard his footsteps pursuing us.

A car whizzed by and honked, and I hopped onto the sidewalk, instead of running in the middle of the street.

He was after us. That much I had pieced together. The man was after Taylor and I, yet there wasn't anything we could do but run.  
><em><br>Why was he after us, though? Why couldn't he have gone for someone else in the coffee shop?_These questions ran through my mind, among others, but I didn't have any answers.

Taylor pulled ahead of me, her cross-country spirit showing. I scrambled to keep up with her, breathing hard, but vowing not to slow down until we got somewhere, anywhere safe.

That's when it all happened. The silver pocket knife flew past my ear in slow motion. I turned my head to see it making its way slowly toward Taylor, who had no idea what was coming for her. It was headed to the small of her back, and I was the only one who noticed.

"TAY-!" I screamed, but cut off as the knife, the cursed silver pocket knife, buried itself into the small of Taylor's back.

She confined running for a second, but then crumpled to the ground in a heap, the knife protruding from the small of her back.

"TAYLOR!" I screamed, running toward her limp body. "Taylor!" I howled, screeching to a halt by her, and lifting up her head. "Taylor, please, please, please don't die. Taylor, you gotta wake up, you gotta run with me."

Taylor remained limp.

_She couldn't be dead._

It was impossible.

_She couldn't be dead.  
><em>  
>I noticed the homeless man lumbering toward us.<p>

"Leave us alone!" I screeched, "Don't come near us!"

The man leaned toward Taylor's body, and I howled, punching his face as hard I could. He screeched, and recoiled from Taylor and I.

I didn't even see his hand move, but suddenly, I felt the silver knife pressed against my throat, Taylor's blood dripping from the blade.

"Go ahead!" I screeched. "Kill me, kill me just like you killed Taylor."

"Fine." the man growled, and I felt his knife draw across my throat.

"You're going to hell." I rasped, before everything went black.

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><p><strong><br>Thanks for reading. :) I hope you liked it! Please review. The button's right there. XD**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much, everyone! :) I got two reviews. I didn't expect to get any. =O Also, I posted pictures of Linnae and Cassie's appearances on my profile, so check it out so you can get a better image, if you want to.**

**FantasyRW14-The Harry Potter stuff is introduced in this chapter. :]**

**XxShadowsThatDancexX-I honestly don't know right now. I'm leaning towards Harry, because I love Ron/Hermione, but I haven't decided yet. I also think that someone in her house (She won't be in Gryffindor) likes her. Either way, I'm trying to make it a love triangle... Square? I don't know... **

**I don't own anything! J.K. Rowling does! I do own Linnae, Cassie, and the homeless man, though. :)  
><strong>

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><p>You know how people say that when you die, you see your life all over again? That didn't exactly happen to me. There was no tunnel with 'the light' at the end, no large white silhouette waiting for me.<p>

No, instead, it was all darkness, but only for a second. I saw the man's hand move, I felt my throat burn with pain, and I told the man to go to hell. And then everything turned to black.

Three seconds later, everything came back into view. I was in a large white room, sitting on a wooden chair, and my left arm was resting on a gray table. A metal door lay off to one side. If this was heaven, it looked strangely like an interrogation room. I attempted to push back the chair and get to my feet, but I found my ankles were handcuffed together.

The metal door suddenly opened, and a man in navy blue robes stepped inside. A woman followed him, in deep red robes.

I jumped in surprise. Were they wearing oversized bathrobes? I decided not to ask.

The man was very tall, with dark skin and mysterious brown eyes. It appeared that he was bald, but he was wearing a navy hat to match his robes, so I couldn't really tell.

"My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt." the man said, his voice surprisingly deep and calming. "You're in safe hands."

The woman was tall as well, but not nearly as tall as the man. She had shocking pink hair, with a cute little nose and rosy cheeks. "Tonks." she said brightly.

The man, Kingsley, gave her a small glance.

"Fine." The woman sighed. "Nymphadora Tonks. But call me Tonks!" she added brightly, sitting her chair so enthusiastically it fell over. She gathered herself up from the marble floor and sat in her chair embarrassedly.

There were very few Nymphadoras in the world, if none. And the chances that her last name would be Tonks? Try 'there's no chance in hell,' as an answer. And Kingsley Shacklebolt? This was crazy. "Do you know anyone named Harry Potter?" I said faintly.

"Hey!" said Tonks cheerfully. "You're American!"

Kingsley gave Tonks another small stare.

Tonks coughed, and shrugged. "Everyone knows Harry Potter. I don't know him personally, but he's pretty famous. Why?"

This. Was. Out. Of. Hand. I was in the books. The Harry Potter books. This was impossible. How had this happened? I was in the books! My heart beat faster. Which years was I in the books? Harry's first year? Second? Was I after his time? My eyesight darkened. I didn't even know which generation I was in. My senses dulled. What about my family? And then, I fainted.

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><p>I woke up again about ten minutes later, after Kingsley ordered in his deep, deep voice for Tonks to get a reviving potion.<p>

My throat burned as I sat up, my mouth tasting slightly of dog breath and lilacs. It was a strange combination, but I didn't complain. I noticed Tonks, crouching over me, looking at me worriedly. Kingsley stood off to the side, a trace of concern in his voice when he said, "You had quite a fall. Are you alright?"

I forced myself not to reply in an English accent- I always found they were contagious. "I'm fine, no need to worry."

I attempted to get to my feet, but forgetting my ankles were handcuffed, I ended up falling flat on my face. I flopped onto my side, thoroughly embarrassed. Kingsley was the future Minister of Magic; I could only imagine what he thought of me. Tonks... Well, from what I'd read of Tonks in the books, I was just as clumsy as she was.

Tonks offered me a hand, and I took it, getting to my feet ad bunny-hopping over to my upturned chair, bending over (being slow and cautious as to not topple over again,) and getting back on four legs. I took a seat.

Kingsley took a seat across from me, and Tonks sat down next to him. Kingsley took a piece of parchment from his robes and withdrew his wand.

That was what I'd been waiting to see. "Do some magic!" I said, sounding as excited as little kid, but I quickly corrected myself. "I mean... Do some magic?" I said in a much calmer voice.

"I'll do some magic!" said Tonks enthusiastically, drawing her wand from her robes.

Kingsley quickly interfered. "Ah... Perhaps that isn't the best idea right now Tonks." he waved his wand, (he looked a bit foolish) and a bouquet of bright blue flowers sprung from the tip. My adoptive mother (I had been adopted when I was three) had once said that there was no such thing as a natural blue in the wild. Ha! Then again, these flowers weren't natural, they were created by magic.

"Whoa." I squeaked.

"Thank you." he said in his trademark deep voice. "Now, let's get down to business, shall we?" he asked.

"Okay," I said with a shrug. "I'm good with that."

"Name?"

"Linnae." I said awkwardly, still feeling weird that I was telling fictional characters my name. "Linnae Sophia Zuvich."

"Alright." Kingsley said, waving his wand. Ink appeared on the parchment. "Age?"

"What day is it?"

"July 7th." Tonks said, obviously glad she could be helpful.

"Today's my birthday. I turned 14." I mumbled.

"Congratulations!" Squealed Tonks, clapping her hands enthusiastically, and nearly knocking over the table in the process.

"Linnae, I can't help but notice your..." He indicated to my body.

"Oh, yeah." I said cheerfully. "My right arm is missing, right? That's what you're referring to?"

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><p><strong>TADA! There we go. ^-^ Please review, and let me know if you have any questions. :) (As you may have noticed, I love smiley faces) The review button is right there!<strong>


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